


severed

by sjalfvili



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Reylo - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 14:05:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17245547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sjalfvili/pseuds/sjalfvili
Summary: “We are compelled not by what we believe is right, but by what we love the most. You are not driven by duties, you are not driven by doctrines; you are driven by what you ultimately desire--and maybe you don’t actually really love whatever you think you love?” --Ann Voskamp, The Broken Way





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> half of a redemption arc, twice the pain. this was written because my best friend keeps suggesting rey is going to die in ix so my brain went along this route and didn't stop. a short fic to express my undying love for my favorite ship and lack of angst impulse control.

So this was how it felt to die.

Chest swelling in anguish as hers fell into rest. A gaping cavern searing, burning into his spirit as heartbeats dwindle under his touch. Deafening emptiness. _Unending loneliness._

Rey is clutched close to him, in a grip he wished was stronger than death, rocking her limp body as if she were child. To close one’s eyes, either pleading to be woken from a dream or praying in a miracle, the distant banter of war, blood and chaos is ignored.

He has already cried. Intent promises destined to be empty, all because he had the incredulous ideal to compromise. To go his own way.

It was the crossfire that had gotten to her. Crossfire was of the inevitable in taking the lives of innocents. Perhaps Rey was not of entire innocence, no. But in comparison to him, truly now, everyone was far more innocent than Kylo Ren.

He could not keep himself from shaking. The body manifests the symptoms of what the soul endures. Severed. He is severed. Splintering into thousands of pieces and more, tearing him apart. _He’s being torn apart all over again._

She had taken on what was meant for him. The opposition creating the ultimate wound. A downfall not designed for the one it struck. How many times had she saved him? Who could save him now?

Blood stained his hands. Dripping red with the cries of countless victims. Kylo knew he could never wash them clean. But this? _This was different._ It stained his conscience. Hands could be covered, hidden. One cannot remove the influence of the mind.

_You shouldn’t have done that. I could have---_

_Ben…_

_I could have evaded, survived-- Rey, I was going---_

_It would have been you, Ben._

_It SHOULD be me-!_

_No._

Luke had been right, for Han had not left him. He would remain with that guilt. This… dear gods this… he could never bear. Her broken body was proof of his own broken and hollow promises.

The past catches up, and it butchers the future before your very eyes. There was nothing he could have done to prevent this, other than to perhaps have listened to her the dozen times before.

_It’s okay, Ben. We were foolish to believe the war wouldn’t end like this. I just wanted you to be the one to live in freedom and peace._

But _she_ was his freedom, _she_ was his peace. _I’ve had my share_ was nothing but blaspheme, aside from the perspective of a freed slave.

It was too much for her to die and somehow claim it as his salvation in her dying breaths. Unfair heresy. Whatever compelled her to believe he could ever be more without her?

Something of great speed and weight harshly collided against the ground not too far a distance behind them. More specifically, him. It jolted him, pulling dark eyes open to brace the reality around him.

Curled underneath the ledge, covered in soot, sweat and blood, cradling the entirety of _his world_ in his arms, head perfectly tucked against his shoulder. _He could still hear the faint remnants of an ever slowing heartbeat._

He could not stay here any longer than necessary. The bodies of the witnesses would be left, but he’d be damned to leave her behind.

The comm tucked behind his ear crackles to life, _Supreme Leader what is your status?_ The general is evidently frazzled, unaware of the fragments but knowing fully the extent of battle. _One of your Knights has fallen, I urgently request you to return to the battlefront--_

Adjusting his hold on her, Kylo tilts her head up so that his brow rests against hers. How can he still breathe without her?

_Ren, what is your status!?_

“Sweetheart,” his voice is tired and broken, “I’ll fulfill the one promise that still stands. I will bring you home.” A tear escapes from both eyes, creating a line down his cheek amongst the grime of planetary battle.

His legs are sore, the bones of them ache, as he works to stand. It hurts to move without her too. Her back cradled by one arm, legs folded over the other. An unfortunate parallel. The beginning and the end.

Kylo heads west, every step somehow more painful than the last.

_Supreme Leader Ren, there is no time to waste, the Resistance has---_

He shrugs off the earpiece and allows it to fall to the ground, crushing it with his boot in passing.

“I’ll get you home, Rey.”

He remembers a time, one amongst a candlelit room on Cantonica, where she whispered to him of some new revelation she was elated to give him. The kyber ring, proudly worn, clutched between her right fingers. _You’re my home, Ben. I know that now. When I’m with you I know I am finally home._

But that was not the truth. It was not meant to be as such. He promised to bring them together. As a home. Yet look where it had brought her.

No, he would take her to where she belonged. It was never to be with him.

 

* * *

 

His body is weary.

The distance by which he carried her was not far, for he had been reckless in landing to join Rey on the field. Legs strain against the incline of the ship’s ramp. She is light in his hold, but the weight of a different essence weakens his arms. They haven’t stopped trembling.

The upsilon shuttle is quiet in its approach in whirring back to life, as if the ship had its own understanding of the matter at hand. All units had been called to the fight, leaving him alone on board. After all, his command ship was damaged, but it would last for what was ahead.

His elbow gently pressed the command to shut the ramp, calling it to close behind him. To his great dismay, Kylo would have to set her down if he was going to pilot the ship on his own

Settling to put her someplace of comfort, Kylo brought Rey’s body into the one small room that generally functioned as private quarters. He bent to gently lay her on the bunk in the opposing corner, careful to position her head just right. _As if her body would be in any discomfort in death._

Rather than leaving to prepare the upsilon for flight, he tentatively sits beside her. The loose strands of brown hair needing to be tucked away, collar adjusted, thumb reaching to brush away a smudge of soot from her cheekbone.

Her skin was already getting cold. He unlatches the cape from his shoulders to pull it over Rey’s form, and he turns it over. The inner red silk faces up as not to slip from her. Kylo knows it isn’t going to do her any good. _The gesture won’t bring her back._ But he knows not what else he _can_ do.

_If it helps keep him together for little while longer---_

She is wrapped in the blood-red of the First Order’s signature. She claimed to never had liked it.

“I’m sorry,” voice cracks under the rising pressure, forcing out words that _should_ be empty. He touches her cheek, the same place he had tried to clean, but blood had only smudged in return. _He should wash his hands._ “I didn’t mean for this.”

_How else was the war going to end? She had to get herself killed in order to get through to him._

_Had she really gotten through?_

He feels numb, yet all the while he feels the _grief_ coursing through him. Senses are flooded with it. Skin tingles as if it is without feeling, or the blood rushing into tired muscles accidentally returning from sleep. His countenance does not lie, however. His face tends to be a terrible liar as it breaks.

“I’ve failed us both. But I suppose this means I cannot do it again.” Might as well stop while he was ahead, because if it wasn’t now it surely would be later. _When it would hurt more._

Bending forward, a kiss is placed to her temple, and he lingers there. Heartache truly spreads into all parts of the body. He has never experienced it to this full extent. It will never be invoked again, _but this sort of pain begs to be felt._ Relentless. There would be no hope of its end.

_I never deserved your trust._

The bond they had shared was cut, only echoing what he wished to say back. Was that why it hurt so much? Not only the loss of whom he loved but the _other half of him_ was gone. Unwhole. Ripped and splintered at the ends.

He takes her hand anyways, pulling it close to his chest. Alone, he feels at liberty to let a tear fall. Though it does not mean they would be apt to stop. He’s choking on guilt.

“I can’t fix this, but I’ll take you home-- _and I’ll make it up to you.”_

Of course he is only fooling himself. If she’s out there, somehow, following him through the Force, he can almost _feel_ her denying it. You cannot pay recompense for something that can never be undone.

Adjusting the kyber ring on her finger, turning it so the crystal was centered. A conditional engagement it was. Rey was ever apt on mentioning just _how_ and the particular steps he needed to take. He now knows he would never marry her.

But he would do what he _should have done_ in the first place anyways,

Kylo kisses her bruise knuckles before gently setting her hand down, tucking the cape under her neck. His legs feel as if they might give out as he begins to stand. He’s afraid to take his eyes off of her. That when he leaves she would disappear… or something of worse stature would become of what was left of her.

He even speaks to her as if she had any choice. “Stay here, I will be right back.”

The automated door of the quarters is set to remain open as he leaves, daring to take a last glance before taking place at the console. He bullies himself over the irrational. Rey had little training, and only Jedi that _prepared_ for this very thing had their bodies follow after their spirits. She had no recollection of it. _What else in the galaxy could take her away from him now?_

Wiping the water from his eyes, he forces in a breath before preparing the shuttle. It whines at him with warnings, but he ignores them with pardoning a dozen protocols. He would have to use whatever hope there was left in him to venture into the enemy territory, particularly without getting shot out of the sky.

Jakku was never intended to remain as her home, merely her origin. Ben Solo was _dead_ and Kylo Ren broke too many promises. He would take her to the Resistance, doing well at holding their own it would seem. She had found her own place with them. _He could no longer ignore it,_ but rather accept it. Now acknowledge it.

Once the ship rises, Kylo silences the communication links before General Hux has a chance to rip through the aging silence and works to open another, entirely separate channel. He does not have the exact coordinates as to where the resistance have gathered their hoarded forces and temporary base. Though he knows of the general direction and stubbornly executes a relatively suicidal plan _if only to follow through with one promise._

_I love you, no matter what… hold onto that._

He remembers the night they had worked towards a compromise. Where he snuck into her chambers on Naboo in the midst of a neutrality conspiracy. The half-smile that leaks onto his countenance is only found in bitter turmoil.

_I’ll hold onto you, for as long as I can. As long as you let me._

Her promises seemed empty as well, in truth.

For it was Ben that had asked her not to let go of him either.


	2. Chapter 2

_Incoming First Order transmission._

The small, makeshift headquarters was already scrambling to release another wave of resistance fighters and newfound warriors. This new, impending threat seemed to call upon the attentions of already occupied commanders and generals.

An operator summoned the resistance’s main practitioner over the others, pulling General Leia towards the consoles to examine the meaning of this. “Our scanners confirm it’s from Kylo Ren’s command shuttle.”

General Leia Organa’s countenance pales only slightly, a contemplative finger reaching to brush across her chin. Her thoughts are interrupted by Commander Dameron who had recently been called back to regroup and create new decisive actions. “How many are behind him? Is it an ambush?”

“No, sir, just the shuttle. Scanners indicate there is only one on board.”

This seemed to stump the lot of them. Dameron was always insistent on his opinions, even with his restored authority. “What is it then, some kind of trick?”

“Open the transmission,” Organa affirmed gently. It was clear that something wasn’t right. There had been an unmistakable disturbance, familiar and yet faint. _She began to fear the worst._ Her son’s impending ship was of no aid to alleviate her stress.

_And they haven’t heard from Rey._

There was nothing to hear in the transmission, but rather a symbol. A white flag of sorts. _To come in peace._

Somehow it did nothing to ease her, near confirming further suspicions of--

“That’s _bullsh-”_

The general gives Dameron a glare that prevents him from finishing. He knows a little better now, looking down in respect while remaining irreversibly skeptical of the situation.

“Let him through.” She does not know what to hope for, but she holds out on it anyways. No one would be here without it.

 

* * *

 

The supreme leader’s command ship lands at the front of the base. As if to knock on their front door. Most of their numbers were on the battlefront or in the air, but those that remained circled the shuttle with blasters in hand and ready.

Much to the dislike of everyone else, General Leia was intent on being the lead representative. She  _was_ , after all. They had done their best in dancing around their concern over her health and pleaded that if anything happened they would _need_ her more than others. There had been far too much self-sacrifice these days.

Poe, like the loyal man he was, remained adamant on staying by her side. Guarding her. Blaster in hand. Perhaps she was the only one who had gone without.

The ramp seemed to take a millennium to open. The crowd entirely silent in careful watch. Once the edge rested on the dirt ground, a figure slowly emerged from the command shuttle carrying something in their arms.  _Only one life-form had been detected._ That one carried another.

Poe saw him first, “It’s Ren, get back--” his blaster was raised and he tried to step between Leia and the ship but she pushed through him as if to get _closer_.

Carrying someone in his arms, wrapped in a red cloak, Kylo Ren less than cautiously stepped from the ramp and in the midst of the circle of his enemies. He was not afraid. He was not afraid of death if they were to be kind.

She sees brown hair draped across his arm, her eyes grow wide and her heart sputters. Quickly, she turns toward anyone who could confirm her command. “Someone get a medic--”

Kylo stands stoic, careful of the eyes and weapons pointed at him. _One wrong move._ The general waves them to dismiss their hostility, but goes near unseen at the preposterousness of it. She looks at her Ben now grown, scarred, hurt. He’s taller than she imagined him to be. Though he says nothing, she can feel the anguish-- the _apology_ through the Force. He does not look as if he could part with the girl in his arms.

The medic that was called had been wise enough to bring along a raised cot. Though it is placed ever cautiously in front of Ren. He looks tentatively at it, near considering it before reluctantly bending to lay Rey down onto it.

Her body was limp, even if Kylo was particular in the way he set her. Every movement full of care, gentility. Rey had not entirely hidden their relationship from his mother, for Rey had accepted Leia as her own. He even continued to tuck away the edges of the cape, as if the warm, dry and dusted world would somehow make her colder.

She closes the distance between them, standing on the opposite side of the cot. Shooing Ben’s hands away, she reaches to touch the girl. His excessive fidgeting with her was not to hide what had happened, but she suspected it to be his own way of coming to terms. _Laying her to rest._ Rey’s pulse was gone, and it had been for a short time. She sniffs, dismissing the medic for they had no need of him here.

_But there was no time left for her._

“She tried to save me,” was his only excuse, his only _reason_ to imply anything of real weight.

Leia does not look at him just yet, for she, too, tucks away Rey’s loose hairs. “Has she saved any of us?” An indirect question, voiced low enough for only him to hear. She glances at him in time to see a subtle nod.

“She _will.”_

It wouldn’t be enough. He expected the end of this would be the end of him. It wouldn’t be terrible. It already was. “I’ll make it right for her.”

There are tears brimming in her eyes. _Too many losses. No more sacrifices._ Tired lips press together, eyes fall shut a moment to try to conserve the water. But Leia nods again in understanding. It would seem he’s always had his own path, there was little she could have ever done to have tried to stop him.

“For all of us?” she asks.

He swallows and dips his chin, eyes falling to Rey’s countenance of peace. _To bring a similar peace to those that are left._

Even for Han.

“Yes.”

Satisfied with his answer, though the weight did not lift from either of them, his mother reaches for his cheek. The last place his father had embraced, the one Rey had taken for herself. A small, sad smile accompanies her touch. _Sometimes nothing else in the world matters other than your son._

“Then go, my son. We’ll be right behind you.”

 

* * *

 

"How could you let him leave?" a frazzled Dameron asks once the shuttle had lifted and began to work its way out of sight. Everyone is at liberty to be upset. Everyone believes he had killed her.

It would be too much to explain. They would just have to  _see._ No one else could feel the resolve like she did in her son. No one would believe her. Barely anyone could understand that  _she_ was the one who had brought him into life.  _Not with so much death surrounding them._

"He's turning on the First Order, you'll see."

"General Leia, I love you and I respect you  _but-"_

"Then I don't need you questioning me, Dameron. I need you to prepare your squadron."

And aside from the matter at hand, there was still Rey's body looming behind them, her face now covered with the supreme leader's cape. Poe hasn't stopped looking at it in unease.

"Poe, if you would take it from me... that sometimes there are things in this universe that cannot be explained or understood." A reassuring hand is placed on his shoulder. He's upset at this, ready to convince himself to make some bullheaded mistakes. In the name of a girl he had little of a chance with.

She won't bruise him further.

"We need to focus on the final battle at hand. Then this all will be over." It sounds convincing even as it leaves her lips, but the general is having a hard time believing it herself.

"And what about-"

"I will be sure to take care of her. I won't let anything else happen to her, my dear."

It was an answer enough for him, forcing a solemn nod before turning to prepare for the next wave. Yet he stops, one further question that, perhaps, all should establish.

"What are we going to tell Finn?"

The friend. Likely the first friendly face the both of them had ever seen. Unbreakable bond. He was on the front lines. Developing strategies for the foot soldiers to expose the formations of the stormtroopers.  _He didn't know._

"I'll tell him," Leia assures. Poe leaves, grief cast over him in the darkest of storms. He'd use it as fuel and ammunition to win. She's already proud of him.

But she can't tell Finn. Not until he returns. Until everyone else is safe. Leia, too, turns to the girl. Shrouded in red. There's unending commotion around her, but she takes a cold hand into hers. Closes her eyes and whispers like a prayer.

_Be with him. My son needs you now, more than ever sweet girl._


End file.
